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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503134">Anakin Skywalker, Witch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingmusician/pseuds/wanderingmusician'>wanderingmusician</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Professor Qui-Gon Jinn, Slow Burn, Witch!Anakin Skywalker, Witchcraft, there will be a haunting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:46:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingmusician/pseuds/wanderingmusician</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin Skywalker owns an occult shop and sells potions, tinctures, and protection amulets. Obi-Wan Kenobi works in a microbiology lab and only believes in science. Their first meeting goes about as well as you would expect. And the one after that... and the one after that. Until Obi-Wan finds himself in some serious (supernatural) trouble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meet (Un)Cute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The modern magic AU nobody asked for. </p><p>The first.... 3/4 of this have been edited by my lovely friend Olivia. I wrote the last bit after she'd already looked over this chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obi-Wan is aware that he should have closed the lab up by now. But he’s almost done assessing this batch of samples, and there isn’t anything waiting for him except an empty apartment with a few succulents that seem to do better when he ignores them. No, he may as well spend his evening hunched over in front of the fume hood measuring fungal growth.</p><p>“You know very well that those can wait until tomorrow, Obi-Wan.” A voice speaks from the door to the lab. The paltry hall lights illuminate a tall man with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. “That new undergrad of yours is also perfectly capable of doing this.”</p><p>Obi-Wan startles, almost dropping the petri dish he’d been holding up to the hood’s light. “Qui-Gon! What are you doing over here?” He makes no attempt to defend himself – Qui-Gon isn’t wrong. “We didn’t have plans tonight, did we?”</p><p>Qui-Gon smiles at his friend wryly. “No, no plans. But Vos told me he thought you might be working late today and could use a break. Something about this strain showing promising resistance that you just couldn’t wait to look at?” He steps into the room fully, leaning over Obi-Wan’s shoulder to look at the stacks of agar plates filling the hood. “Yes, it all looks very science-y.”</p><p>This earns him a gentle elbow to the gut. “Ok Monsieur Rosseau, let me just put these away and we can go.” Obi-Wan stacks all of his plates in boxes before standing up with a long stretch and switching off the vent. “What’s on the docket tonight: terrorizing undergrads at your current dive bar of choice or will we be going somewhere with decent food and a floor that looks like it might have been cleaned in the past year?”</p><p>“I don’t hear you complaining about my choice of drinking establishments when you’re busy picking up over-stressed grad students looking for an outlet that takes the shape of an attractive older man.”</p><p>Obi-Wan scowls at Qui-Gon, but doesn’t say anything as he locks the door to the laboratory behind them. Again, his friend isn’t <em>wrong</em> and arguing will only encourage more teasing.</p><p>“Anyway, I have to pick up a custom order from one of the shops downtown first. I thought we could pick up something while we’re down there?”</p><p> </p><p>The shop, it turns out, is an <em>occult</em> and <em>magickal</em> supply shop. A bell chimes as they walk through the door and Obi-Wan steps into the love child of an apothecary and a craft store. He manages to keep his face from twisting in disgust, but it’s a near thing. Obi-Wan is well aware that his friend is a bit of a hippie, but he can’t imagine what sort of custom order Qui-Gon could possibly need from a shop like this.</p><p>A voice floats out from behind a myriad of overstuffed shelves, “Welcome to The Open Circle! I’ll be out in just a moment.” There’s a clattering from the back of the shop, and despairing cry of “Artoo, no!” before a large grey and white cat comes through the doorway and races up to Obi-Wan’s feet, dropping a bundle of dried lavender on the ground in front of him before staring into his eyes and meowing plaintively.</p><p>“I’m so sorry about him. He just –“ The voice trails off as its owner looks up from the bottles he’s carrying and sees Obi-Wan, with the cluster of lavender at his feet. The man is attractive, and made even more so by the blush that is staining his cheeks red. “Lavender, Artoo, really?”</p><p>Crouching down, Obi-Wan gives the cat a gentle head scratch as he picks up the plant. He inhales deeply, taking in the soothing scent before holding it out to the man, who hurriedly sets down his collection of bottles before snatching the plant out of Obi-Wan’s hands. “Hi, I’m Anakin, welcome to The Open Circle. How can I help you today? I’ve got a tea blend that’s great for helping with insomnia, you look like you could use that.”</p><p>Bemused, Obi-Wan starts to open his mouth to reply but before he can get a word in Anakin blushes an even deeper red. “Not that you look bad or anything! Just, y’know, um, you seem like you might have some trouble sleeping.”</p><p>Thankfully for both of them, Qui-Gon chooses this moment to reappear from the shelves of crystals and brightly colored rocks he’d been perusing. He’s looking between Anakin and Obi-Wan with a smirk on his face, and Obi-Wan is getting the feeling his friend had abandoned him on purpose.</p><p>“Qui-Gon! I have your potions right here, just a moment and I’ll box them up for you.” As the shop boy turns away and starts putting small glass vials in a padded box, Obi-Wan inspects his surroundings more closely.</p><p>“A magic shop, Qui-Gon? Really?” The older man has spent plenty of time prattling on about ‘The Force,’ but he thought that was just… some spiritual thing. The realization that his friend and fellow professor is buying potions at a magickal supply shop is making Obi-Wan question the philosophy professor’s sanity. Obi-Wan gestures loftily to the shop around him, “I respected your intelligence more than this.”</p><p>“Hey, you might not believe in what I do but that doesn’t give you the right to make fun of it!” Anakin whirls around, thrusting the box of potions at Qui-Gon. His soft blue eyes are blazing now. Even the cat seems to be glaring at Obi-Wan. “You can just leave, you know.”</p><p>Qui-Gon gently places a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “You must forgive my friend. He’s one of those skeptic types, always holed up in his lab. The lack of social interaction makes him forget his manners.”</p><p>At this Anakin snorts and his posture relaxes. “I don’t have to forgive him, but I’ll forgive you for bringing him. Now, there’s enough for two weeks there. I’ve changed the recipe just a bit; let me know what you think.”</p><p>Chuckling, the grey-haired man takes his box and leads Obi-Wan out of the shop. “Thank you as always, Anakin.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t need to be so rude, you know,” Qui-Gon looks at Obi-Wan reproachfully, gesticulating pointedly with his chopsticks. “Mock my beliefs if you want, but Anakin is a very nice young man who puts his heart and soul into his work.”</p><p>Obi-Wan pushes his orange chicken around in the takeout container, debating how to answer. Magic had been growing in popularity and acceptance for the past few decades. His disdain for the occult is unusual, even among non-believers. “A nice young man wouldn’t be peddling false hope and snake oil to desperate people.”</p><p>“Do I look desperate to you?” Qui-Gon waves a chopstick around again before taking a bite. “I buy potions to enhance my clarity when meditating. He’s hardly selling me a miracle cure.”</p><p>Biting his tongue, Obi-Wan stares pointedly over Qui-Gon’s shoulder for a moment. This is not the time to get into a discussion over the ethics of witchcraft. Besides, the supposed potions are probably just water with an essential oil or two in them. His friend will be fine. “I’ll consider revising my opinion when he can show me reproducible results in a peer-reviewed study.”</p><p>The older man sighs heavily and stands to start cleaning up dinner. “Not everything in life fits neatly into your ideas of how things should be, Obi-Wan. You can’t simply study and quantify everything.” He crouches down for a moment, getting into the wine cooler and coming up with a bottle of Grenache. “But I didn’t invite you over for a debate. How about we split this bottle and talk about the newest batch of undergraduates?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Moonbeam Levels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is gonna be a slow burn guys<br/>Also disclaimer that I don't know anything about modern or ancient witchcraft but I'm trying to do my research. I did work in a research lab for a while though. <br/>Thanks again to Liv for editing - find her on tumblr <a href="https://sexysymphony.tumblr.com/">HERE</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Honestly, the audacity. He comes into my shop and makes fun of my craft?” Anakin grumbles to Artoo, aggressively grinding black peppercorn and sea salt with a well-used pestle. Artoo stares at him and replies with a series of chirps. “Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs and sets the pestle down. “Any finer and it’ll be impossible to clean up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anakin rolls his shoulders, stiff from bending over his work table all evening,and picks up a small cauldron. He carefully pours ashes from the cauldron into the large mortar containing his salt. As he’s about to add in a pinch of charcoal powder, Artoo jumps up on the table and bats at a vial of iron shavings. They’re from one of his cauldrons, and if he adds them to this the salt will be much stronger against malignant entities.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You sure?” Anakin asks doubtfully. “I don’t think we’ll be warding off evil spirits anytime soon. You know I’m not taking those jobs anymore.” The cat knocks the vial off the shelf and meows loudly. Shrugging, Anakin tips a healthy amount of shavings into the mortar and starts to stir the whole concoction with a wooden branch, adding charcoal powder every so often until he deems the salt black enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he bottles the mixture, Artoo gently head-butts him in the arm before jumping down from the table and running over to the large window which looks into a small courtyard behind the building. After carefully labelling the jar in his hand, Anakin follows him over. “What it is you think I need now? Find anymore stuck up redheads to give love symbols to?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The grey and white cat flicks his tail, turns his back on Anakin reproachfully, and slips out the partially open door to the courtyard garden. Anakin pushes the creaky wooden door open further and follows the animal outside. The waning crescent moon doesn’t provide much light; but strings of solar lights crisscross overhead, strung between the enclosing walls, are bright enough for him to see Artoo sitting under a mugwort bush. He sighs, and gently sets the bottle of black salt down on a small table in the center of the court where the dark moon will be able to charge it. The witch doesn’t bother questioning his familiar any more, just snips off a few branches from the plant and starts to tie them into a bundle with a bit of twine fished out of his pocket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this Artoo.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>************</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan Kenobi sighs and switches from his Excel spreadsheet to a page of local home listings. Qui-Gon was right – his new undergraduate lab assistant could have handled assessing the samples. Now thanks to his extra hours working the evening before and her terrifying competence he’s ahead of schedule. Being bored is a rarity at work and he’s not quite sure what to do with free time. It’s too early in the semester to have any grading, and in any case he rarely assigns homework to the one microbiology class he teaches.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hard at work I see!” A face appears next to his, its owner crowding uncomfortably close. “You thinking of ditching us and moving, Obes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve asked you to call me Obi-Wan, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan spins his chair around and rolls away from the other man. “And no. But I was thinking of buying a house. Maybe someplace with a bit of a yard. I could get a couple of cats.” He’s aware that he sounds a bit too wistful, but if Quinlan notices he doesn’t comment on it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dark skinned man throws himself onto the shabby couch which spans an entire office wall. Obi-Wan found it on the curb a couple years ago and had the thing cleaned. It’s ugly, but it’s also comfortable enough to take an extended nap in – something his friend frequently takes advantage of. “You’re just tired of Mrs. Towner downstairs complaining about how much noise your conquests make.” His eyes glint mischievously. “Just gag them; I know you’re into kinky things.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pinching the bridge of his nose, the red head sighs. He knows Quinlan is just giving him shit, but – “That seems a bit much for a hookup, Quinlan. Forgive me for thinking some measure of trust might be established before asking someone to let me silence them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His friend laughs. “Always so serious, Obi-Wan!” In a flash, the mirth is wiped off his face. “I think it’s a good idea, though. A house. You need someplace to make home. Your apartment looks like a fucking model unit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why are his friends so insistent on calling him on his flaws recently? He supposes he should consider it a small mercy that he hasn’t run into Yoda recently. The head of the department always has some perceptive but unwelcome remarks about Obi-Wan’s research or life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What did you come here for, Quinlan?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come with me to the Underground tonight. There’s a new bartender and I want to get her number but I don’t want to be that guy who’s there alone hitting on the bartender like a creep.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan agrees to meet at the bar after work. This is not the first time Quinlan has asked for a wingman, and he suspects it won’t be the last. His friend is great at starting relationships but not at maintaining them. Silently, Obi-Wan bets that it will be 4 months before Quinlan is on his office sofa bemoaning the end of this fling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Satisfied, the other man jumps off the sofa and heads to the door. “Oh, and Obes? Wear something sexier than that. Even Mrs. Towner knows that corduroy went out of style ages ago.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*********************</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Starfighter Underground isn’t in the middle of downtown Coruscant, but its close enough to be busy on a Thursday night. College students flushed with the freedom of being back on campus and professors already yearning for the relative freedom of summer both fill the small building. Quinlan manages to elbow his way into two stools at the bar. They sit, and Obi-Wan takes a moment to observe the bartender before she makes her way over. Silver hair is shaved off on one side and she’s wearing a bold purple lip. His first impression is that she’s more likely to eat Quinlan for dinner than go out with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’ll it be, boys?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Quinlan leans on the bar and smiles winningly at the bartender. “What’s your favorite?” Obi-Wan isn’t sure, but he thinks Vos just batted his lashes at the woman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Absinthe. Usually a double” She dead-pans, scowling a bit at the man.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, uh, I’ll take a Long Island.” His fellow professor looks slightly defeated, but Obi-Wan figures the man will bounce back in a minute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I figured. And what about you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan orders a scotch, and half-heartedly pats his friend on the back after the bartender turns to prepare their drinks. “Chin up, Vos, it looks like she hates everyone here, not you in particular!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Quinlan groans and rests his chin in his hand. “She’s so… militant. I saw her kick a man out last weekend, and I swear to God, Obes, she picked him up with one hand. It was beautiful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Side-eyeing his friend, Obi-Wan considers how to reply to this. It’s not what Quinlan has gone for before, but the man has never had a defined type. He falls in love at the drop of a hat, and for the life of him Obi-Wan can’t figure out what the trigger is. Luckily, the vicious bartender saves him from answering by delivering their drinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By some miracle, she appears to want to talk to Quinlan now. Obi-Wan gracefully slides off his stool and goes to occupy himself by the dartboards. Past experience has taught him that listening to Quinlan Vos flirt is not the height of entertainment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a small crowd gathered around the boards, cheering intermittently. Sipping his scotch, the red head makes his way to a spot where he can view the action.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two people are playing. One, a young woman with her hair in three buns, is down to 60. She hits a single bull, a triple ten, and then a twenty. The crowd groans and her partner elbows her with a smile. “Let me show you how it’s done.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan does a double take – that’s the man from the magic shop. Anakin. It’s only been a couple days since their encounter, what are the odds they run into each other here? Quinlan and Obi-Wan have been frequenting the Underground for years and he’s never seen the young man here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anakin steps up and prepares to throw. The first toss is lazy, and hits a single twenty. His brow furrows, just slightly, before the second. Double 3. He only needs 3 points to zero and the crowd is muttering. Twirling the dart between his fingers before throwing, he barely checks the board before proclaiming victory.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, who’s the next challenger? Step up, drinks are on me for the rest of the night to whoever can beat me! We’ll play 501.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Somehow the crowd has jostled Obi-Wan forward and Anakin’s eyes fall on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You look like you could use a game, let loose a little.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Never let it be said that Obi-Wan Kenobi has backed down from a challenge. Throwing back the rest of his drink, he accepts the darts from the girl with the buns.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think I got your name the other day.” Anakin looks him up and down, clearly appraising. Obi-Wan is suddenly glad he had taken Quinlan’s advice and changed. His jeans and polo aren’t sexy, but he gets the feeling that his corduroy pants would have been mocked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Obi-Wan. Was it Anakin or Albus? I’m afraid I can’t remember.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blonde haired man rolls his eyes and turns to start the game. His style is still lazy – as if he doesn’t even have to think about what he’s doing. And yet he’s bringing his score down quickly. Obi-Wan hasn’t played darts for a while, but he used to be quite good at the game in university. He’s keeping pace with Anakin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet you I can end the game, right now,” Anakin taunts him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan checks the scoreboard an enthusiastic audience member is keeping. Anakin is down to 100 even. Obi-Wan is at 130. “What are we betting?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lean shoulders shrug. “Whichever of us wins will be granted the title of Darts Master.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t know you wanted to call me master.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anakin steps up to the throw line, and then deliberately takes a step back. He throws in quick succession – two single bulls and a double bull – winning the game before it could even really get started.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan can’t help it, he’s impressed. “How do you make it look so effortless?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Magic.” Anakin winks at him, and walks away. The crowd quickly swallows him and Obi-Wan is left standing alone by the dartboards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose I rather deserved that,” He says to no one in particular. He collects the beer someone had brought him during the game and heads back to Quinlan. Hopefully his friend had a more rewarding night than he did.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you want to yell about Obi Wan and Anakin with me, you can message me on <a href="https://anakinsthot.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Toe to Toe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's still not a meet-cute, y'all.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ONE MONTH LATER OOPS. I wrote this and it was shit, and I sent it to <a href="https://sexysymphony.tumblr.com/">Liv</a> and she knew it was shit but didn't want to say anything, and then I made her angry so she sent it back with scathing edits, and for awhile I was in the wrong headspace to write, then I drove to SC with a couple horses, and finally rewrote this and wow you'd think it'd be longer for all that wouldn't you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obi-Wan has avoided going out to the Starfighter Underground since the <em>witch</em> beat him at darts. Instead, he’s thrown himself into house hunting with a fervor.</p><p> </p><p>His realtor, Luminara Unduli, sweeps through houses in her stylish pantsuits and matching hijabs, quickly taking note of every fault and brusquely complimenting those features she finds particularly pleasing. This is their second weekend touring homes. Last weekend Obi-Wan looked at five, and liked two of them enough to put in an offer, only to be too late. They have toured two today: one an ugly ranch he couldn’t get out of fast enough and the other an interesting mid-century modern. They’re heading to a third and Luminara promises that he will be excited about this one – apparently the garden is “to die for.” Obi-Wan suspects that she’s getting fed up with him – he can’t decide exactly what he wants in a home, simply telling her that he’ll know the right one when he sees it. The only real requirement he’s given her is that it should have a nice garden. He thinks she almost laughed at him when he couldn’t think of anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling into the driveway, Obi-Wan’s breath catches. <em>This </em>is the house for him. This one is going to be his home.</p><p> </p><p>There is an enormous red oak tree in the front yard – all of it enclosed by a white picket fence. Bushes line the brick sidewalk which leads to a small flight of steps up to a black front door. The door belongs to a small Cape Cod covered in white shingles, with black shutters, that is sitting back from the road. Obi-Wan falls in love immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“How much is it? I want to put in an offer.”</p><p> </p><p>Luminara side-eyes him. “Wouldn’t you like to see the interior first?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose.” It doesn’t matter – it could be a wreck inside and Obi-Wan knows he would still buy the house.</p><p> </p><p>Luminara guides him through a comfortable looking living room, a small dining room that opens to the slightly outdated kitchen, and a bathroom with a large walk-in shower on the first floor. Upstairs there are two bedrooms with sloped ceilings. Obi-Wan envisions one room with large windows as a cozy office.</p><p> </p><p>Their tour of the house ends in a backyard in desperate need of care. Vines snake along the ground, twining between towering vegetable shoots. Obi-Wan is fairly sure there is a basil plant masquerading as a bush. Idly, he picks a cherry tomato and tosses it in the air as he surveys the backyard. There is potential here – a brick patio with most of the bricks intact, a fire pit, and more trees in addition to the riotous vegetables. Tucked in a corner of the fence is a small garden shed that matches the house.</p><p> </p><p>“I want it.”</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>Obi-Wan’s week has been going well – the sellers were eager to close on the house and agreed to cover all closing costs, Quinlan has offered to bring his truck and help with the move, and his new undergraduate assistant has continued to impress him with her work. Obi-Wan suspects he was due for some bad luck, but running into Anakin at the grocery store after work on Friday seems particularly unfair. Their area of Coruscant isn’t large, but Obi-Wan has lived here for years without running into the man. Now he’s seen him three times in a month.</p><p> </p><p>He would swear Anakin is following him around the store. They exchanged glares at the cart depot upon entering, and he’s seen him in nearly every aisle since then. Obi-Wan side-eyes the younger man as they both peruse the spices. Anakin is dumping herbs into his cart seemingly at random. <em>“Probably ingredients for his fake potions,” </em>Obi-Wan thinks to himself, scoffing out loud.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your <em>problem?</em>” Anakin whirls around to glare at him. “Keep following me around like this, and I’m going to start to think it’s no coincidence!” He spins away and brusquely strides out of the aisle. Obi-Wan grits his teeth, grabs a tin of loose leaf tea, and heads in the opposite direction.</p><p> </p><p>Anakin’s cart was full of raw ingredients – so surely the frozen meal section will be safe. And besides, even his new lab assistant has noticed that he never brings a real lunch to work. Microwave meals will at least be better than whatever he can get from the food trucks by his building on campus.</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan eyes the selection in his cart. It looks like an undergraduate’s shopping – microwave meals, caffeinated beverages, and the most basic of spices. He decides to get ingredients to bake; he used to be in the habit of bringing treats for the department every other week, but hasn’t had the energy to cook much for the last few months. Bringing something in will be a nice treat – and gives him a reason to enjoy the modern appliances in his apartment kitchen while he still can.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, Anakin is in the baking aisle when Obi-Wan turns his cart into it. They both reach for a bag of chocolate chips at the same moment, and Obi-Wan shudders when his hand brushes against Anakin’s and a flash of heat runs through him. He lifts his eyes to Anakin’s, but before he can open his mouth to apologize the man is growling at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, what is your <em>problem?</em> Worried I’m going to cast a spell on you if you don’t keep your eyes on me, or are you just infatuated?” Anakin’s arms are crossed over his chest, and his face is turning red. Obi-Wan thinks he should probably leave him alone, but -</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, is it a crime to buy groceries now? Is this like senior hour? The witching hour - occultists and snake-oil salesmen only!” But it’s much more fun to taunt the younger man and watch the red spread down his neck.</p><p> </p><p>Later, groceries loaded and on his way home, Obi-Wan muses that maybe it wasn’t such bad luck, running into Anakin. The man is infuriating, but he’s not bad to look at.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“I swear he’s stalking me, Snips! I mean I’ve lived here for years now and have never seen him, and now I’ve seen him three times in one month? It’s suspicious.” Anakin is paging through a book of spells as he complains, only skimming the titles on each page before moving on to the next.</p><p> </p><p>Ahsoka sighs and glances at her mentor’s familiar before answering him. Artoo looks equally fed up with the older witch. Granted, Artoo has probably heard about this man more than she has. Ahsoka isn’t even sure who it is, really, just someone that doesn’t believe in the craft and is apparently “unfairly attractive, who even allowed him to have eyes like that,” to quote Anakin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, Skyguy. I mean, who would want to stalk <em>you</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Anakin gasps, clutching at his heart in fake outrage. The grimoire he was reading from lays forgotten on the work bench. “Am I not called the Chosen One, the most powerful witch seen on this side of the ocean for decades? Witch hunters would <em>love </em>to stalk me and burn me!”</p><p> </p><p>There hasn’t been a real witch hunter for decades, but Ahsoka decides not to mention that right now. When the Council told her to go to Anakin Skywalker for mentorship in the ways of the Force she had expected someone more serious. Instead she has a mentor who is barely older than her and prone to the occasional bout of hysteria. She’s not saying she would change anything – she wouldn’t, not for the world. Skyguy is the <em>best.</em> But, in the month since she moved to Coruscant, Ahsoka has learned more about picking her battles than anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe Qui-Gon would bring such evil into my shop. That traitor. May his meditations bring him bad vibes.”</p><p> </p><p>Ahsoka giggles. This is why she loves spending time with Anakin – melodramatics aside, he’s funny and not nearly as stuffy as most of the other options the Council had put forth as potential mentors. And when he gets around to teaching her about magic, about the Force, it’s like being given insight to an understanding most mortals can never reach. Anakin speaks of the Force like it’s something he knows intimately, as though it whispers directly into his ear, and twines around him in ways the most practiced witches in their coven can’t imagine. Yet that depth of insight is frequently overlaid by complete irreverence. If Mace Windu heard him wishing <em>bad vibes</em> on someone through their meditations… Ahsoka has to stifle another giggle at the though.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe it’s the will of the Force that you met him. I mean, you did say he was cute. And Artoo liked him.”</p><p> </p><p>Anakin makes a disgusted sound and glances imploringly at Artoo for backup. The cat, predictably, ignores him. Artoo may be the witch’s familiar, but Ahsoka has yet to see him agree with Anakin when he’s in one of his more dramatic moods.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever Snips. Why don’t you go water the plants out back and head out? The Council will have my head if you get behind on your school work because of me.” He pauses and rummages for something under the work bench. With an exclamation of triumph, he straightens and tosses a small blue bag at her. “Mugwort, lavender, peppermint, and a piece of amethyst. You said your new boss seems really tired, this should help.”</p><p> </p><p>Ahsoka eyes the spell bag warily. She’s not sure it will be welcomed in a microbiology lab, but she can probably hide it under her boss’s office chair. Obi-Wan will never notice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It won't be a month next time promise</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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